Balls and Boyfriends
Hermione was very glad that Mrs. Weasley had decided to spend the Yule break at her own house, instead of Grimmauld Place. It meant that she was able to get ready for the Malfoy celebration without answering any awkward questions about who exactly her date was. Harry wasn't so lucky, as Sirius wasn't going to stop pestering him about who he was picking up, but really if he didn't want to be asked, he'd learn how to glamour the love bites on his neck. It was entirely his own fault. Hermione knew that they were going to meet up with Harry's boyfriend at the ball. She hadn't met him yet, but according to Harry, he was the hottest thing on two legs.
Arriving at Malfoy Manor in a swirl of green flames, Hermione absently spelled away the soot from both her and Harry. He didn't even pause long enough to greet the Malfoys properly, just waved and darted past them and up the stairs. Hermione sighed and shook her head, before looking at the Malfoys. "I would apologize, but I've got no control over him anymore." She smiled then and curtsied at Lord and Lady Malfoy. "Thanks for having me at your party. I'm especially excited for the Yule ritual later on, I've heard so much about it and--" Before the excited tumble of words could continue she cut herself off and took a deep breath. She had gotten better at resisting the urge to babble when anxious, but the manor was intimidating.
Lord Malfoy greeted her with a kiss above her knuckles. "Simply delightful to see you again. I very much enjoyed reading your draft for an article in The Wizard's Moot. They don't frequently publish writings by Hogwarts students, as it is a political magazine, but the editor very much appreciated the tone of your work when I showed it to him." He smirked at her. "Enjoy the ball, I'll be certain to introduce you to him later."
Hermione blushed, her heart racing. It seemed that Lord Malfoy wasn't just teasing her with the possibility of mentorship, but actually helping her now, without any commitment from her. She knew that it was a manipulation, indebting her informally, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work. "Oh! Thank you. I tried to make sure to keep the tone appropriate, reviewing the back catalogue was very helpful. I'll look for you later, I know you're busy greeting right now." She smiled at both of the Malfoys and hurried into the ballroom.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow at Lucius, and he hastened to explain. "The girl has potential, 'Cissa. I told you about that speech she gave to the Board. She's got Augusta Longbottom and Ted Tonks ready to approve a required course on Dark Arts at Hogwarts, whether or not that old goat approves." He shook his head, then muttered under his breath, "Really, we need to cancel that contract with the Parkinsons, if we could get potential like that in the family, imagine the heirs!" He had a distracted look on his face, obviously picturing grandchildren with heads full of curly blond hair ruling the entire Wizarding World.
His wife shook her head. "Have you really not paid any attention to your son? There's no way that he'll marry a witch." Her smirk at her husband's disappointment wasn't even hidden. Her eyes remained sharp on him, evaluating his goals and considering the young woman who had just left them. She hadn't bothered considering much about the girl until this year, she was just so brash it was hard to take her seriously. Over the past few months of hearing about her from various sources, it seemed that she had much improved.
Lucius frowned and thought about his son, then shook his head. "Well, I guess I'll just have to apprentice her instead. Not as neat a solution, but needs must." He straightened his robes unnecessarily, and eyed his wife out of the corner of his eye, while pretending to consider the mantle of the fireplace. He knew that his wife could make his life very difficult if she didn't agree with his goals, especially not ones that would involve someone learning from both of them. While much of politics could be taught without concern of gender, there were nuances best handled by witches alone when it came to an up and coming witch.
Narcissa resisted the urge to grimace and turned to greet the next guest arriving in a burst of green flame. She wasn't sure that the girl's convictions would remain strong, and mentoring someone only to have to deal with a betrayal was not ideal. "Perhaps, my husband. We shall have to see how the ball goes." She left much unsaid, but Lucius was satisfied she was even willing to consider him mentoring the girl.
***
Given Barty's status as an escaped convict and the fidelus on Grimmauld Place, the pair had decided to meet at the ball. The ballroom looked like she had thought it would, straight out of one of the French manor homes that she had seen on vacation as a child. The walls were white, with gilt detailing, the floors marble, and the chandeliers positively dripped with crystals. Of course, there were several differences to the muggle manors, mostly in the trays of champagne floating through the room, the fact that the chandeliers weren't really attached to the ceiling, and threw far more rainbows than they could without a bit of help. The glints of rainbow did reduce the severity of the cold white walls and marble floors. Guests were gathered in clumps throughout the room. Most of the men were wearing dark colors, but the women were clad in an array of seasonal shades. Yule's colors, according to the research that Hermione had done, were the traditional Christmas colors, red, green, white, and gold.
Barty appeared at her side, and bowed. He was unglamoured for once, wearing a set of black dress robes trimmed in gold. They were reminiscent of the suits she had seen in historical dramas about the French Revolution. Black pants, fitted snuggly to his legs, a gold embroidered black silk vest that buttoned up to about midchest. The open robes over top had buttons, but didn't close. It had matching embroidery, and swept to his ankles. The cascade of a cravat concealed the shirt underneath. As she looked closer, she could see that the gold embroidery took the form of acanthus leaves, symbolizing rebirth and healing. She smiled at him helplessly, and offered her hand. Barty took in her golden silk gown and was stunned. The antique gold color set off her deep tan skin, and the toga inspired styling emphasized her figure. The slit in the side was revealed as she took his arm and they walked further into the room.
"I thought that Potter was the one bringing you?"
Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, "You must have missed his run up the stairs the moment he got through the floo. I know he's meeting his lover here, but really, some decorum!"
"You never mentioned, who is it that he's meeting up with?"
Just then, she spotted Harry, his arm linked with a young man only a few years older than him. Hermione nudged Barty and indicated with her eyes. "Not exactly sure where he met him, probably from one of the discords. His name is Cain Gaunt. He finally gave me the name right before we left for the party." Barty's eyes widened, and he glanced over immediately. The two young men looked perfect together. Harry was a wild force of chaotic energy, only mildly restrained by the strictures of formal evening attire. Cain was precisely perfect. His wavy brown hair was charmed to remain out of his eyes, and neatly parted. He wore the evening clothing like he was born to it.
The quartet had just met up for introductions, when the Malfoys swept back into the ball. The doors didn't close behind them however. They both stopped and turned to greet the final guests. Professor Riddle and the Assistant had arrived.
Hermione gasped, and clenched down on Barty's arm. "I didn't know that they would be here! You didn't say!"
Barty winced and tried to get her to relax her grip without shoving her off of him. "Erm. Yeah. Sorry, OpSec and all that you know."
Hermione froze and turned to look at him. "Operational Security? And just who has been teaching you muggle terms like that?"
Barty protested quietly, "I heard it in a movie, quite liked the sound of it. Very official. Um. As an apology for not telling you, I could introduce you?"
Hermione nodded slowly. She hadn't really thought about it recently, but she had seen Barty ritually murder his father with the help of the Professor and Assistant. He wasn't just a well educated teacher. She had witnessed him murdering someone on a live stream. And she had seen Barty take part too. It wasn't just a gimmick, she saw the prizes that Harry and Sirius had won, those were real. She couldn't remember exactly how she got here. How was she ok with standing next to a murderer, even thinking about kissing him? How could she go over there and speak with Professor Riddle—No, call him his real name-- Lord Voldemort, the monster who killed Harry's parents along with so many other people? What would Dumbledore say? What would her parents think? "I.. I think no, not tonight. I ... I need some air." She turned and walked toward a balcony, legs stiff and her face pale. She had gotten so wrapped up in the excitement of studying something new that she hadn't even thought about the fact that Professor Riddle, the charming man who had taught so many people so many interesting things, was the same as the murderer who would kill her for her muggle parents. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her fingertips.
She stared sightlessly out over the grounds, barely noticing when she was followed by Harry and Cain.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked. He rested his hand on her bare shoulder and squeezed gently. "Are you sick? I can get you out of here if you need to go." His voice sounded like it had since fourth year. Caring, concerned, and so warm.
Hermione shot a glance at him, then looked back over the railing. "I just realized that … Do you ever wonder if you're in over your head? I shouldn't be here, Harry! I don't fit in with these people, they all hate me because of my blood and--"
"Do you really think that, Miss Granger?" The drawling voice of Harry's date interrupted her. "You see, even if Harry hadn't said anything about you, I've heard plenty about the brilliant gem of Gryffindor, tilting at windmills for Magical Equality. Lucius, Barty, Bellatrix, and pretty much the entire class of seventh year Slytherins have all had plenty of good things to say about you. You're the only one I've heard mention blood, though." He raised a supercilious eyebrow at her and sniffed.
Hermione's spine straightened and she stared at him, then turned to Harry. "Really? I'm not just here because they like you?"
Harry rolled his eyes so hard that his whole body rolled with them. "Merlin, Hermione, no. I think half the time I get invited because they know you won't come out on your own. You think they really want me at debate club? All I do is get drunk and throw things at Draco." He paused and cocked his head to the side. "Well, maybe they do like that bit. But really!" He grinned at her.
Hermione relaxed and turned to face the guys. "Oh. It's just.. Things have changed so much for me so quickly, and suddenly I thought about where I was, and how I really don't fit here. I haven't got anything to offer these people."
Harry froze as a thought crossed his mind and his face simultaneously. "You don't have anything to offer, yet, because you've not got that law degree I know you're going for after you graduate. But what if you did? What if," he grabbed her hands, "Hermione, you're 19, right? After all that timeturner business, I know you calculated it."
Hermione stared at him. She recognized this mood. This was the sort of look he got on his face when he was about to put all the clues together at the end of the year, when he was about to make the leap from what was known to what was unknown, defying all logic. She loved this mood. "Yes, I gained about 200 days, so by now I've just past 19. I'll be 20 by the time we graduate."
Harry grinned wildly. "Here's what we'll do. You're the official proxy for House Potter. You'll have to sit on the Wizengamot and attend committee meetings. Since you're over majority in the muggle world, your parents can't even question you on it. I'll get you the proxy ring this weekend. Your first meeting will be next week. I can't stand the idea of sitting there every month, but you'd love it! Lucius would help you." Hermione frowned, uncertain when Harry got on a first name basis with the Malfoy lord, but her mind was busy whirling over the possibilities in front of her. "Since you'll have my votes, they'll need to make sure and get you on side. They'll need you, Hermione." He grinned even more maniacally and squeezed her hands again. "This will be brilliant! Imagine the faces on those old fossils when they see you walk in and turn everything on its ear!"
A slow smile crept across Hermione's face as she started nodding. "Oh! If you're sure, I can hold the proxy, at least until you decide you'll take it back."
Harry glanced up at Cain, who was smiling indulgently at him. "I think I'll be a bit busy for all that mess."